


The Good Boys

by Tatzelwurm



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout - Fandom, Fallout 4
Genre: M/M, Murder, Original Character(s), Prostitution, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:31:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatzelwurm/pseuds/Tatzelwurm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benjy “Boomtown” Bakowski wants out of Jared’s raider gang in Lexington. Jared likes chems, and manipulating people with them, doing bad things to them. Benjy’s no idiot. He’s run with Gunners, with Raiders. He knows the lowlife like that back of his oil blackened hand. He’s bad but he ain’t that bad. He’s heard of The Good Boys. Everyone has. They ain’t like other Raiders, people say.They’re evolving. They’re clever. They’re Good. And Benjy wants in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I have to get outta here, Lonnie. I can’t stay in this fuckin’ place anymore.” It seemed like such a long time since he’d said those words. He remembered exactly how Lonnie had looked at him when he’d said them too, the calculating expression that fell on her hard face. They had been guarding the old sewage pipe, just them and the quietly humming turret. There hadn’t been many ferals that night and it had been all quiet for a good hour or so. It was in that quiet that he’d known for sure it was time.  
“Why?” was all Lonnie had said, in a toneless voice. He’d shaken his head, looked around at the filthy, rusting walls of the pipe they were standing in. He hadn’t wanted to say. Lonnie stared at him for a while, waiting until the silence had grown tense and uncomfortable before saying, “It’s Jared.” It wasn’t a question.  
He had nodded. “It’s Jared. But it ain’t just Jared. It’s what he’s doin’. It’s the chems. It’s the lurin’ people in with ‘em. It’s the experiments, Lon’, it’s his obsession with that old lady who thinks she can see the future. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t keep actin’ like workin’ for him makes any fuckin’ sense. Like it ain’t insane.”  
Lonnie had sniffed, said nothing, and he’d asked, “Are you gonna shoot me now?” But she’d just replied, “You still got too much Gunner in you, Boomtown. Shoulda seen it before. You always looked fuckin’ weird in Raider gear. You’re bad, but you ain’t really all that bad. You got some o’ them morals. They’re gonna get you fuckin’ killed. Especially if you stay here.” She had fixed him in her hard glare. “You gotta plan?” He had nodded, “Yeh. The Good Boys.” Lonnie had snorted and said in a tone as close to mirth as the hardened raider could muster, “Why ain’t I fuckin’ surprised?” and then, “You gonna be ok?” he’d nodded, “Yeh.” Lonnie had shrugged and said, “Well you better go now then, you stupid pup, before Jared catches wind of this. You got all your shit? Got Violetta?”  
“Yeh. Thanks Lon’.” She’d only replied, “Fuck off Boomtown, and don’t come back.”  
It seemed like such a long time ago, but really it couldn’t have been more than three days, he was sure of it. He’d gotten out of Lexington fine, left the Corvega plant, and the Super Duper Mart and all those fucking ghouls, and Jared, and Lonnie behind him. And he’d begun to head towards the coast, because he’d heard that’s where he’d find The Good Boys, and their territory, a place called Avalon. They weren’t like other raiders, he knew that much. Stories had been circling the Commonwealth since back when he ran with the Gunners. That Dokter Good, and his men, people would say, They’re a new breed of raider. They’re evolving.   
He hadn’t told Lonnie that he didn’t actually know where exactly Avalon was. He doubted she’d have tried to talk him out of going, she didn’t really give that much of a fuck. It had been a pride thing really, he’d wanted to set off looking like he knew what he was doing. He didn’t.  
His first night out in the quiet of the Commonwealth went fine. He climbed a high tree and tied himself to a branch and ate a tin of spam. He even slept a few hours. The day had dawned sunny and clear of radiation storms. A good day for the journey that was in it, he thought. But it wasn’t.  
The Yao Guai took him completely by surprise. One second he’d been peering up at the wreck of the old overpass above him, wondering how such a huge and heavy thing had managed to stay standing for two hundred years. The next, there was a roar and a searing pain in his right shoulder and back, and he nearly dropped Violetta.  
He was lucky. He had a fairly good pipe rifle with him and he managed to swing it up left handed as the mutated bear leapt for him. By fluke, his bullet found the Yao Guai’s eyeball, easily piercing it and smashing into the creature’s brain. The huge thing fell to the ground, and then he fell to the ground too.  
He didn’t want to look at his shoulder. He didn’t have to, to know something was really, really wrong. He felt stupid. He’d been too optimistic about his journey, let his guard down. If he’d still been with the Gunners, that kind of lax behaviour would have been completely unacceptable. As it was now, he feared it had cost him his life. The dirt around him was red with blood, his and the Yao Guai’s. Soon it would draw all manner of nasty scavengers and they’d eat him whether or not he was dead by that point. He had to get out of there.  
How he’d gotten back to his feet with all his gear and Violetta on his back, he’d never know. How he then managed to keep on walking for another full day was even more of a mystery. He had no idea where he was, where he was going, or if he was even going to make it. All he knew was that he could barely feel his right arm, that Violetta was getting heavier and heavier on his back, and that he thought maybe he could smell the ocean…

“Holy, fuck, Haimes, get a fuckin’ spotlight on the guy so’s I can fuckin’ find him. He looks dead already.”  
The shout startled him. He hadn’t even realised that he’d still been walking. He opened his eyes. It was night-time now, but a bright light was being shone directly at him. He wasn’t able to move his right arm. He fell to his knees.  
He was staring at the dusty ground when the sound of running footfalls approached him. Two people, he thought, but only one voice spoke, the same one that had shouted earlier. “Ah shit lookit him. He’s lucky you spotted him when you did, Dandy. Fuck. Alright. We gotta get him in to see Nightingale. You carry his gear, I’ll carry him.”  
He felt his gear and Violetta being lifted off his back, and made a weak noise of protest. Then he felt someone duck under his left arm and get a tight grip on him. The person lifted him to his feet and began to half drag, half carry him along, the bright light of the spotlight following them as they went.  
“You’re some stupid fucker, you know that, kid? What you doin’ out there, runnin’ around on your own?” he managed to register the question and remembered what it was he was doing. “The Good Boys.” He murmured feverishly, “I want to be a Good Boy.”  
The person carrying him snorted. “Doesn’t everyone, kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

Consciousness came back to him slowly, and when it did, it was accompanied by no small measure of pain. His entire right arm and part of his back ached dully, right down to his bones. He opened his eyes slowly, and realised he was lying down. He was in a room lit with bright daylight, walls clean and the paint still relatively white. There was even unbroken glass in the window.  
“The kid’s awake, Miss Nightingale.” The voice came from his right, but he found it too painful to turn his head towards it. In response to whomever had talked, he heard the rustling of clothing, as if someone had stood up, and then footfalls on the tiled floor. The sound walked around the bed he was on, and it was accompanied by a person, who came to stand next to him, and peered at him closely.  
“Good to see you ain’t dead.” The person said. She was a red-haired woman, tall and gentle-faced, dressed in a clean shirt and jeans. He looked up at her, confused, and asked, “Who are you? Where am I?” The woman reached behind her and pulled a chair up to his bedside, its metal feet screeching slightly on the tiles. She sat down on the chair and said, “I’m Nightingale. And you’re in Avalon.”  
It took a second or two for her words to sink in, and when they did he frowned. “You mean, Dokter Good’s Avalon?” he asked. Nightingale nodded, “Yep, Dokter Good’s Avalon.” He was even more confused now, and he frowned as he looked her up and down. Then he asked, “You’re a raider?” Nightingale shrugged, “I guess so. Technically speaking, I don’t actually do any raiding. I’m the medical specialist here in Avalon. But yeah, we’re raiders here. Just like you, if your armour and gear were anything to go by. Nice missile launcher by the way.”  
“Her name’s Violetta.” He said, involuntarily, and then, “Where’s all my stuff?” Nightingale smiled a half smile and said, “It’s safe, you’ll get it back. Violetta too.” Then she looked up, past him and called, “Nurse Lucy, could you bring our patient’s clothes over? I’m sure he’d like to dress now that he’s awake.” It was only when she said this that he realised he was totally naked, though mercifully covered with a blanket. A whirring met his ears as a robot hovered into view. Her white paint told him she was a Miss Nanny, and her eye stalks buzzed as she focussed on him. She was carrying a bundle, which he recognised as his road leathers and boots, and when she saw him looking at them, she held them out and said, “All clean, buddy, and stitched up where that Yao Guai took a slice out of ya. Congrats on the not dying thing.”  
“Yeh. Thanks.” He said, and made to sit up. It was difficult, and Nightingale didn’t move to help him, probably knowing he would have refused her help had she tried. However, she did say, “You lost a lot of blood kid. Didn’t know if you were gonna stick with us for a while there.”  
He finally looked down at his arm and shoulder then and was slightly relieved to see it completely swathed in bandages. He hadn’t really been up for looking at whatever horrific damage the Yao Guai had done him. “How bad is it?” he asked. Nightingale leaned back in her chair and said, “I ain’t gonna lie to you. I thought you were gonna have to lose the arm. Lucy and I managed to save it, but I can’t guarantee you’ll have full use of it. Or even if you’ll have any. It might still come down to cutting it off.”  
He looked up sharply, a bolt of distress flashing through his chest. “No.” he said, and Nightingale raised an eyebrow. He shook his head and continued, “I need it. Violetta, my missile launcher, she’s my thing, ya know? That’s what I do, I blow shit up. I can’t hold her with one arm.” Nightingale studied him for a few moments before asking, “What’s your name, kid? What’d your last gang call you?”  
“Boomtown.” He said, “They called me Boomtown.”  
Nightingale glanced at Nurse Lucy and then said, “Well, Boomtown, you ain’t gonna be making anything go boom anytime soon. I’m gonna advise you don’t try picking up your dear Violetta until that arm of yours is totally fixed. If and when that happens.”  
But Boomtown shook his head again. It was like she didn’t understand or something. “But I’ll be useless with just one arm. Raiders don’t keep useless people around.” At this, Nightingale snorted, and took his road leathers and boots from Nurse Lucy. Handing them to him, she said, “You might notta heard, but The Good Boys ain’t like other raider gangs. You won’t be getting executed for losing an arm. Now get dressed. Someone wants to meet you.”  
And with that, she left the room, Nurse Lucy hovering out behind her. Boomtown sat without moving for a minute or so. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting when he decided to seek out Avalon. Though now he thought about it, he didn’t know what he’d been expecting, not really. Not this. Not a clean bed and clean bandages in a clean room with glass in the windows. Things like that were unheard of, especially when you were a raider. And these people were raiders. Boomtown looked around the room, at the shelves of medical equipment shining in the sunlight filtering through the window. He supposed the things he’d heard about The Good Boys were true. They weren’t anything like other raiders. They were a new breed entirely.  
Boomtown dressed in his road leathers as quickly as his currently useless arm would allow him to, and noticed as he did so that Nightingale and Nurse Lucy must have bathed him while he was unconscious, not an enviable task considering his previous employment’s hygiene standards. For the first time in a while he could see his actual skin colour without the near constant coat of motor oil and grime that usually covered him. He thought that maybe this was the first time he’d been properly clean since he left the Gunners, roughly two years before.   
Despite his arm, he managed to get his leathers and boots on, though not without a considerable amount of pain. Again he felt that pulse of fear go through him. He didn’t want to lose his arm. He couldn’t. He looked down at his hand and tried to make a fist. His fingers twitched, but the pain was too much and he couldn’t do it. Boomtown swallowed his fear and headed towards the door.  
Exiting the room with the bed, Boomtown found himself in a small office, cluttered by a small metal desk and far too many filing cabinets. Nightingale sat behind the desk, making notes on a piece of paper in a folder. Nurse Lucy was organising a drawer of files, and humming mechanically to herself.  
Nightingale looked up at him and put down her pencil. “Now, ain’t that better? You don’t scrub up too bad, kid. Dokter Good might make good use of you yet. Now c’mere. Let’s put that arm in a sling so it ain’t just dangling by your side all useless, like a leg o’ radstag hung up to cure.”  
Though he tried to keep his face neutral as Nightingale strapped his arm across his chest, the pain was really quite bad, and he felt a sweat break at his hairline. Nightingale obviously noticed because when she was done, she gave his good shoulder a brief pat and said, “You’re gonna be in a considerable amount of pain for a good while, kid. But don’t worry, I can help.” As she said this, she picked up a hypodermic needle that had been on her desk, and tapped the bubbles out of it.  
Immediately, Boomtown held up his good hand and took a step backwards, almost bumping into Nurse Lucy. “Whoa, what’s that?” he said, eyeing the needle suspiciously. Nightingale gave him a weird look and said, “It’s just Med-X kid. It’ll help with your pain.” But still Boomtown stared at the hypodermic needle warily. Images of Jared driving similar needles into the necks of terrified junkies rose in his mind. Experiments Jared had called them. Those experiments had always made Boomtown feel sick.  
“Yeah, but it’s just Med-X, right? It ain’t cut with nothin’?” he still hadn’t relaxed at all, and Nightingale was looking very confused. “Jeez.” She said, “I ain’t never seen a raider who didn’t want to take Jet, let alone Med-X. Lucy, wanna tell Boomtown here exactly what’s in this shot?”  
The robot whirred forward as if leaning reassuringly over Boomtown’s shoulder, and said, “Sure thing, Miss Nightingale. Med-X is a potent opiate analgesic that binds to opioid receptors in the brain and central nervous system, reducing the perception of pain, as well as the emotional response to pain. Essentially, it is a painkiller delivered by a hypodermic needle. I’d take it if I was you, kid. That arm’s gonna give you nothin’ but agony without it.”  
Boomtown said nothing. Nightingale waved the needle she still held aloft. “I swear to you kid. This ain’t your usual raider grade shit. We get our stuff from Diamond City, from respectable folk. This ain’t cut with nothin’ dangerous. It’s just Med-X, and right now, you need it. You’re no good to anyone if you’re in too much pain to do anything. And you want to make a good first impression. Better to do that on a bit of a morphine high, than rolling on the ground in agony.”  
She held out her hand, expecting him to give her his good arm. “I promise, Boomtown. I won’t let you get addicted. Here in Avalon, we only take chems when they’re needed. So quit being such a fuckin’ pussy and let me help you.”  
Boomtown huffed, and rolled his eyes, but held out his arm to Nightingale. The medic shook her head in an exasperated fashion and pushed his sleeve up. Boomtown did his best not to look away as she pushed the needle into a vein in the ditch of his elbow, and pushed the plunger. The contents of the syringe emptied dully into his blood and he found himself feeling slightly grateful. His arm really was hurting.  
When she was done, Nightingale handed the used syringe to Nurse Lucy, who immediately placed it in a sterilizer contained within her own body casing. Boomtown ran a hand gently over his bandaged arm and asked, “What now?”  
Nightingale was rubbing her hands together absently when he spoke, and she looked up at him with a slight smile on her face. “Now, Boomtown, you’re gonna go meet the infamous Dokter Good.”


	3. Chapter 3

Boomtown said nothing, hoping his apprehension at meeting the leader of The Good Boys wasn’t too obvious. Nightingale didn’t seem to notice though, as all she did was turn away from him and walk to a door that looked like it led out of the building. Opening it, she stuck her head outside and called lazily out into the world  
“Lazlo!” She shouted, “Get your ass over here! The new kids awake.” Boomtown thought he heard a muted shout in response, and Nightingale pulled her head back in the door and turned to him. “Lazlo’s one of our gate guards. He’s the one that ran out to get you, carried you back in. Between you and me, I think he’s kinda impressed that you’ve lived through gettin’ mangled like you did. He’s a nice guy. He’ll look after you.” As she finished talking, Boomtown heard the sound of someone walking towards the medical building, and a moment later, a man stuck his swarthy and prematurely grey head through the door.  
“Holy, shit, would ya look at this fuckin’ kid here? Torn to fuckin’ shreds and walkin’ around like he’s hot shit. You ain’t even lost ya arm! That’s crazy, man, that’s crazy.“ Boomtown gave the guard called Lazlo an uncertain nod and said, “Yeh. Hi.”  
Nightingale cocked her head in Boomtown’s direction and said, “Laz, this is Boomtown. He’s ‘bout as healthy and patched up as Lucy and I can get him for now, so why don’t you take him to see Dokter Good.” Lazlo nodded enthusiastically at this idea. “Yeah, yeah. Sure thing. Hey, he cleans up pretty well, don’t he? The Dok might even have him out spreading the Good News with Shiner and the lookers.” Nightingale nodded and said, “Sure thing, Laz, whatever you say. Now get outta here, I got shit to do.”  
Lazlo grinned widely and gestured to Boomtown. “C’mon, kid.” He said, “I’ll take ya to meet the boss.” Boomtown glanced at Nightingale, but she had already turned back to her work on the desk, so, not wanting to look nervous, he casually went to follow Lazlo out of the building.  
The yellow-white sun was shining harshly, high in a sickly blue sky. Boomtown squinted against it as he stepped out onto the dirt, trying to take in his surroundings. From what he could tell, he was now standing in a wide, dirt square, surrounded on all side by shacks, junk fences and fairly well preserved pre-war buildings. The middle of the square housed a number of water pumps, and at one a couple of raiders were chatting strangely amiably, while a dog licked water off the pump. Around the wide square, more raiders went about jobs and chores. While they looked more like raiders than Nightingale had, hefting weapons and armour-clad, Boomtown did notice they seemed to carry themselves better than Jared’s men ever had. They looked cleaner, clearer eyed, more alert. Somehow, they looked more dangerous.  
Boomtown glanced at Lazlo, who seemed to be letting him take in his new surroundings. Lazlo himself definitely looked like a raider; shirtless and scarred, spiked metal plates strapped to his shoulders and forearms, a heavily modded pipe rifle on his back. But still, he was different to raiders Boomtown had seen before. He seemed peppy, like he had a natural bounce in his step. It was a weird thing to think, but Boomtown thought that he looked like there was more to him than raiding and violence. Which seemed rather unprecedented.  
“So this is Avalon, huh?” Boomtown asked flatly, and Lazlo nodded. “You betcha. You’ll get the real tour later. For now, we best not keep the Dok waiting.” Lazlo gave him a toothy grin, and then set off across the square. Boomtown barely flexed the fingers of his injured arm, feeling the numbness of the Med-X setting in, before heading after Lazlo, pretending he wasn’t nervous.  
Lazlo led him to a big, old pre-war house that stood on the opposite side of the square. Its paint must once have been blue, and it was roofed with cracked grey slates. Lazlo trotted up the front steps, Boomtown behind him, and let them both into the big house.  
It was cool inside, a desk fan on a table by the door blowing the hot air from outside cool again. Boomtown followed Lazlo down a narrow hallway, to a door at the far end, which Lazlo knocked on. A brief moment passed, and there was a leisurely call of, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. Lazlo gave Boomtown an encouraging grin and then shouldered the door open, leading the young man into the room beyond.  
“Sorry to interrupt, Dok.” Lazlo said, “Only you said to bring you the new kid when he was awake, and here he is. His name’s Boomtown.” Boomtown stepped forward a little, head ducked in the same respectful/fearful way he’d behaved towards Jared. He stole a glance at the room, and the people in it, before looking back at the floor. The room was a spacious office, with shelves full of books and a huge wood desk. Behind it sat the sleekest man that Boomtown had ever seen. He wore a pale grey suit and had black, black hair, streaked white at his temples. Behind him stood a tall, broad-chested man, heavy browed and calculating. He too, was dressed in a suit, a navy one, which seemed really quite odd for a raider.  
As Boomtown stared at the floor, the man in the grey suit surveyed him, before saying, “Boomtown, eh? You looking for an in into my Good Boys, young man?” Boomtown glanced up at Dokter Good, for that’s who he realised it was, and said, “Yessir.”  
Dokter Good nodded and said, “I see. So why they call you Boomtown? On account of that pretty missile launcher you somehow managed to carry here?” Boomtown inclined his head. “Yessir. Violetta. I’m pretty handy with her, sir.” Dokter Good cocked his eyebrows and said, “Even with your arm like that?” Boomtown said nothing, but infuriatingly, he felt his cheeks flush red. Dokter Good waved a dismissive, “No matter, young man, we’ll find a use for you. You had a rifle on you too. Any good with that?” Immediately Boomtown nodded. “Yessir, pretty good, sir, on account of my time with the Gunners. Not as good as when I have Violetta in my arms, but I can do the job, sir.”  
Dokter Good seemed to ponder this for a few moments, nodding slowly, before he said, “Gunners, eh? I was wondering where you got your good manners. Very well. Lazlo, head to the North corner and wrangle Dandy down outta his nest. Bribe him with some gum if you have to. I want him to meet Boomtown here.” Lazlo nodded, his usual grin on his face, and said, “I’ll do my best Dok, but you know Dandy. Tryin’ to get him to do somethin’ that weren’t his idea is like tryin’ to herd cats into a bag of stingwings.” With that, Lazlo turned on his heel, and marched cheerfully out of the office. Boomtown watched him go, still bewildered by the cheerful raider, until Dokter Good’s voice brought him back to the room.  
“So.” the raider leader said, and Boomtown turned to look at him. “You always been Boomtown, or you ever had another name?” the question startled Boomtown a little. Sure, he hadn’t been Boomtown back with the Gunners, but that was what raiders did, wasn’t it? Give themselves a new name, something with bravado, something big?  
“Uh, yeh. Sure, sir. I got another name.” a small silence followed this before Boomtown realised he was supposed to continue. “Benjy,” he blurted. “Uh, Benjy Bakowski sir. Though I ain’t been called that in about two years.” Dokter Good nodded and said, “Benjy Boomtown Bakowski. That’s a good name. Isn’t that a good name, Shiner?” He asked this of the hulking man behind him, who grunted. Dokter Good turned back to Boomtown.  
“So, why do you want to be a Good Boy, Mr. Bakowski? Tell me your story.” Boomtown fidgeted, “My story, sir?” Dokter Good nodded, “Your story, Mr. Bakowski. Where do you come from? How’d you end up here on my doorstep?”  
Boomtown shrugged, resisted the urge to run a hand nervously through his hair, “Well, I was from Quincy, sir. But I’m sure you know what happened there.” Dokter Good inclined his head solemnly. Boomtown shrugged. “I made it out, but the Gunners found me pretty quick. Offered me a choice. Die by them, or kill for them. Decided on the latter. Stuck with them til my squad clashed with raiders in Lexington two year back, and I… well I sorta snapped sir. Realised I was working for the bastards that killed my family, and I uh, I blew the squad all to hell with a missile launcher.”  
He paused at this, staring at the floor and then said, “That wasn’t like me, to do that. Those Lexington raiders loved it though. Jared, the leader there, he figured I’d be good on his side. Invited me in, started calling me Boomtown. But Jared… it didn’t work.”  
Dokter Good obviously saw his discomfort at the thought of his old leader because he said, “Jared. I’ve heard of him. Operates outta the old Corvega plant in Lexington. Nasty piece of work, he is. Obsessed with seeing the future, right?” Boomtown nodded, “Yessir. I had enough. And I’d heard stories, sir. About how The Good Boys weren’t like other Raiders. And I thought maybe I wasn’t like other Raiders neither. So I decided to try and find you.”  
Dokter Good nodded, very slowly, and Boomtown tried not to fidget. He was being scrutinised and it made him uncomfortable. Eventually, Dokter Good said, “Very well. I can see you’re a clever enough kid, not some chem addled, lunatic scum. I’m gonna give you a trial run here in Avalon, see how well you fit in. Put you with one of my best men to get you settled in. In fact, he’s the one that spotted you out there, all torn up, in the first place.” As he finished this sentence, there was a smart knock at the door, and Dokter Good raised his hand. “Speak of the devil and lo, he shall appear. Come in!”  
The door swung open, hard enough to almost crash into the wall behind it, and another person stepped into the room. The young man was tall and rangy, dressed in black leathers and minimal armour. He surveyed Boomtown through cold, grey eyes as he snapped the bubble-gum he was chewing. Boomtown found himself staring at this new stranger, for the sole reason that he had the most bizarre hair. While his scowling face was lean and hollow-cheeked, and his eyes were bruised darkly by purple shadows, his hair was that of a doll, shining, intensely curly, and the exact brown-yellow of razorgrain. Boomtown unconsciously ran a hand through his own short, black hair, and the stranger cocked a cynical eyebrow, before turning to look at the other men in the room.  
“You wanted to see me, Dok?” he asked, in a tone so hard and bored it almost sound insubordinate. Dokter Good didn’t seem to care however, as he said, “Dandy, just the man. This here’s Boomtown. He’s gonna be joining us, and I was hoping you’d do him the honour of showing him around. He was with the Gunners so he’s not bad with a rifle. I want him in the nest with you tonight, learning the ropes. We’ll need a new sniper in the west corner soon. Tom Tom’s about to pop, and she’ll be movin’ to one of the settlements once she’s had the baby.”  
Dandy didn’t look happy about this, but he hadn’t looked happy anyway. He glanced briefly at Boomtown, then back at Dokter Good, and said, “Right. Anything else?” Dokter Good shook his head, either oblivious, or pretending not to hear Dandy’s icy tone. “That’ll be all. Boomtown, I hope you settle in nicely. I’ll be calling on you in a day or two to see how you’re getting on. For now, relax, and get used to your new home. I’ll send someone up to the nest with a rifle for you. Something a little better than what you staggered in with.” Boomtown inclined his head. “Yessir. Thank you sir.”  
“And it’s Dok, Boomtown, though I do appreciate the extra respect. I’ll see you soon.” As he finished talking, Boomtown felt a hand tightly grip his good arm, and Dandy forcefully guided him out of the office, slamming the door behind them. “C’mon,” he said, “I ain’t got all day.”  
With that, the raider named Dandy stalked out of the building and into the square. He stopped smartly and began to point at buildings, saying in a rough bark, “Mess hall. Medical building. Dorms. Food production. Water pumps. Armoury.” Boomtown hardly had time to register all these buildings before Dandy was off again, marching towards a tall building in one of the square’s corners. Boomtown caught up with him as he vanished inside and started up a set of spiral stairs inside. “So,” he said, in an effort to be friendly, which he assumed was how these people operated. “Dandy, right? How long you been in Avalon?” but the curly haired youth didn’t answer. Boomtown frowned a little but kept following him.  
The stairs went all the way up the building, three floors, and opened out onto the roof. The sun beat down on them, and Boomtown squinted slightly. The roof was flat and had a small hut that seemed to contain a mattress and a chair. Dandy walked to where an extremely high quality sniper rifle was leaning against the hut, and picked it up, hefting it familiarly in his hands. He walked closer to the edge of the building. Boomtown was hesitant at first, but then went to stand beside him. They were quiet for sometime, Boomtown openly studying the other young man in a slightly bemused fashion, while Dandy staunchly ignored him.  
Eventually, Boomtown looked away from Dandy and out over the Commonwealth. Avalon was set on flat ground, and from the roof, Boomtown could indeed see the ocean, less than a football field away from them. A large section of overpass stood between them and the sea, and several radstag were grazing on the dead grass beneath it.  
“So you’re the one that spotted me then?” Boomtown said, to which Dandy didn’t reply. Boomtown shrugged, “I guess I owe you my thanks.”   
Finally, Dandy turned his head of curls and looked down at Boomtown, his grey eyes hard as rock. “You owe me nothing,” he said in a flat voice. “I don’t know what you heard about Avalon, but let me tell you. It’s not a fairy tale. This town is going to burn your sorry heart into the ground and leave you in pieces and there ain’t a damn thing you can do to stop it.” With that, he snapped his gum, shook his head briefly, and raised the sights of his rifle to his eye, taking less than a second to aim. The gunshot cracked out over the land and one of the radstag dropped immediately, stone dead.


End file.
